Matrix Gaiden: Seraph
by uncreative pseudonym
Summary: What happens to Seraph after his disappearance in Matrix Revolutions? For that matter, what's going on in the Matrix as Smith takes over? The equation must be balanced, and Seraph is swept up in it.
1. Scene 00: Title Screen and Scene 01: Two

Scene 00: Title Screen

The purpose of this sub-chapter is to explain a few issues and cover a few bases. If you are impatient orshort on time, feel free to skip it and move to the next chapter. I will not again cover these issues. Otherwise, however, feel free to read on. In an effort to make this something other than boring, I have done this in an unusual format. This is not representative of the rest of the story (that is, don't get after me for poor writing).

"The first question you may have, while it may be the most pertinent, it is also the most irrelevant."

"How can a story have such a paltry number of words and yet have multiple chapters?"

"The answer to this question is quite simple. I have come to believe that this generation is made up of individuals who possess attention spans no greater than a bowl of tapioca pudding. Thereforegosequently, I have placed this story in much smaller selections that hopefully will not tax anyone's patience. Indeed, they could almost be considered a set of vignettes. Along this line of thought, I have titled each by scene, not chapter. The overall story is of its original length, albeit in smaller portions. Overall, this may have been a mistake leading from hubris, but while the author may apologize this caricature does not."

"Thereforegosequently? Is that even a word?"

"Of course not."

"I... see. Is that it?"

"Not quite. It should also be noted that there is a minor amount of cursing within said story by characters who commonly do so, though the majority do not. All of this has been edited by the Matrix's censoring function, but a rebel program has stripped the majority of them. I'd show you specific examples by fiddling with my pen, but seeing as this is a literary work, you can't really see the tvs."

"What about blood and gore?"

"Did you by any chance see the big black letters that say 'PG-13' on the door you entered?"

"No, it was too shiny."

"Oh. I told them to lay off the special effects, but would they listen? Noooo! 'Look at us! We have a multi-million budget for big flashy things!' Sheesh. Watch, they'll go build their own interstate highway or something. 'Yay! We're so filthy rich! Let's swim in a pool full of money! Let's play tennis using priceless masterpieces as racquets! Let's-"

"Ahem."

"Err... sorry. No, no gore, just a bit of blood as appears in normal fighting."

"Okay. Is that all you have to tell me?"

"Indubitably not. Inasmuch as the antithesis of the provincial denominator is augmented by the sesquipedalian antecedent of the algebraic cosine, the establishment-arianist vindication of such a rationale is habitually immaterial."

"...what?"

"Never mind."

"Ooookay. By the way, do you own the Matrix?"

"Of course I own the Matrix! I'm the Architect!"

"You know what I meant."

"What do you think, that I'm the author or something?"

"Oh, shut up. I'm sick of this. No respect from anyone. You know what? I quit! I just quit!"

"Wait! Don't go out that door!"

* * *

Scene 01: Two Roads Diverged

"I'm afraid this is the end of the line," Agent Smith said calmly, the grin beneath his glasses spreading. "It has been a long time, but this time, you can do nothing to stop me."

Seraph said nothing, remaining completely silent. He felt the tiny hand in his own squeeze tighter, and he squeezed back. She was afraid, he knew. What made it hurt was that he knew there was nothing that he could do to end her fear. After all the time he had existed, Seraph felt too old to be afraid. Nonetheless, he found himself speculating on the future. Would there even be one, for the humans or for his kind? Or would the world become Smith?

"I told you I'm not so bad once you get to know me," Agent Smith continued, smirking. "Now, let's get to know each other more... personally."

His hand shot out, fingers headed for Seraph's chest. Quite predictable; Seraph reminded himself that Agent Smith was, after all, only an Agent, albeit a powerful one. Whipping up his free hand, Seraph deflected Smith's attack. Getting his other hand free he slammed a fist into the corrupted Agent's jaw, sending him flying backward through the other Smiths.

He had hit with a surprising amount of ferocity; apparently his aggression toward Smith needed an outlet. There was no more time for conversation or thought, as the other copies were swarming forward, attacking en masse.

Kicking out, Seraph sent the nearest one flying. More prepared this time, the Smiths ducked to avoid the flying copy, then slid in low. Leaping into the air, Seraph dodged a sweeping leg and blocked a punch. Catching the Smith's fist, Seraph sent him stumbling long enough to get off a good kick at the other Smith's head. Whirling in a circle, Seraph managed to land a blow on the first Smith's jaw just as he rose, sending him flying once again.

Even as he turned Seraph could sense a hand aiming at his back. Spinning even faster, Seraph managed to deflect blow, enough that the hand did not sink into him. Completing his spin, Seraph smashed the back of his hand into the Smith who had just attempted to absorb him. Before he even left the ground from the force of the blow, two other Smiths were coming in from the side.

Deflecting their blows, Seraph suddenly heard a pained cry. Sparing the briefest of glances, Seraph looked only in time to see the newest of the Agent Smith clones straighten his tie and move into the battle. So he had failed.

No longer constrained by any other allies, Seraph smashed into the wall of the building. The weak material gave way easily, and he crashed through it into the air. Turning as he fell, Seraph pulled both his guns from his coat and fired into the crowd of Smiths above. All of them dodged as best they could, but with such a large group a few were felled.

Striking the ground hard, Seraph managed to roll backward and to his feet. He looked up barely in time to see a Smith barreling down toward him. Deflecting the kick aimed for his head, Seraph grabbed a hold of the Smith's foot and spun him in a circle. The next Smith leaping from above was batted across the street.

Several other Smiths jumped from above. One of their kicks struck him in the midriff, sending him flying across the street as well. Hitting the wall, Seraph broke off a layer of brick and fell to the ground.

Ducking on instinct, Seraph barely avoided the kick that broke through the wall where in his head had been moments ago. Rising to his feet, Seraph sent another of the former Agents flying, only to have several converge on him from the side. Unable to compete with their flurry of blows, Seraph was caught in the chest by a punch and sent flying backward.

Leaping to his feet, Seraph leapt directly into a waiting hand. It sank into his body, and then black code began spreading over him. Every sensation Seraph had experienced was nothing but a contrivance, a control for the Matrix itself. This dark code covering his body was not. As far as the program could understand cold, this was cold. A darkness spread over his mind, and when it faded, the mind remaining no longer cared.

Straightening his necktie, Agent Smith glanced about at himself and smirked.


	2. Scene 02: Aftermath

Well, no action in this section, but calm scenes will be in short supply, later on. After this point, we move into the real plot. For those of you who are big Seraph fans, you get a lot of Seraph thinking. You'll get to see Seraph action next time.

  
  


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Scene 02: Aftermath

  
  


Deep within the heart of Machine City, all was silent, everything working in noiseless precision. The balanced equation of efficiency continued, undaunted by unforeseen circumstances. At the bottom of what served as an alley, the machine housing a certain program began to whirr...

Power online.

Systems activated.

Damage report... extensive.

Recommended course of action: immediate analysis and data recovery.

Analysis: No data damage. All subroutines have been neutralized. New systems are currently operational on master circuit. Systems are considered hostile. 

Determined: recovery is possible.

Commencing system reload.

For a few moments the machine whirred, golden code flying from its core, tapping into the source, moving through the Matrix. Soon its whirring subsided and joined the rest of the city in complete silence.

Program Seraph... restored.

  
  


Slowly his eyes flickered open, staring at hard, cold concrete. He was lying in the middle of a street, he slowly realized, an empty and desolate street. Collecting his mind, Seraph slowly got to his feet.

In near awe he glanced at his limbs as he moved them. As they should, they moved easily to his command. It was a luxury that he had not been given for some time. He remembered very little of his time as part of the being known as Smith. Mostly he remembered the cold. The cold and the feeling of being completely alone, with no one else even existing.

Vaguely Seraph remembered some of his actions, and he stumbled as the memories began to flood back. They had absorbed the Oracle, and then the reign of terror had begun. Using Seraph's programming code, Smith had absorbed countless beings into his expanding wave of darkness. The power that was Smith was growing.

Regaining control of himself, Seraph walked from the street and leaned against the nearest wall. Why was he here? No other Smiths appeared to be in the nearby area, and Seraph could sense no other programs nearby. Had this area already been completely controlled by Smith, and then evacuated? If that was the case, however, why was he here?

More importantly, how had Agent Smith become so powerful? Seraph had survived more than one entire cycle of the Matrix, and never had an Agent become as Smith had. His power was incredible, and would only grow exponentially. But why would such a thing take place?

Concluding the matter merited some serious consideration, Seraph continued to allow his mind to pursue such an auxiliary thought. Of most importance was the nature of Smith's power. As everything, Seraph knew it was controlled by the massive equation that was the Matrix. Smith's new power had somehow stemmed from Neo; did that mean his power was designed to balance the One? Yet with such a power, Seraph extrapolated that the overall affect would be ever increasing. Never in the past had such a thing been necessary to balance any form of the Matrix equation. Then again, never in the past had the One chosen to return to the Matrix after he had reached the source.

If only the Oracle was here. She understood the entire equation, whereas it had never been Seraph's purpose to comprehend it. But he could not escape the feeling that there was something missing, something in the equation that would not balance. Now that the Oracle was a part of Smith, such options were lost to him. There was something else, something that he should have understood, but was missing...

Deciding such questions were irrelevant to the task had hand, Seraph turned his mind to more important matters. How long had he been controlled by Smith? It could have been an hour, or a day. The most pertinent part of the question was the current condition of Zion. Had the machines even breached the core? Or was it already over?

If Zion had been destroyed, then Neo was gone as well. Seraph had never been one to lie to himself, and he grimly acknowledged that if Neo had been killed, they did not stand a chance. With the Oracle under Smith's control, his power here could not be challenged. Already, from what Seraph vaguely remembered, most areas of the city had been entirely deleted and converted to Smiths. But, it was more likely that Zion still existed, and there was yet hope.

Putting such thoughts aside, Seraph began walking. Now that he had no one else to protect, Seraph instead focused on understanding the situation. Until he understood what was happening, he could not hope to help. Only a few programs had access to information outside of the Matrix, but Seraph knew where to find them.

The Marovingian.


	3. Scene 03: Balancing the Equation

Yes, I'm spelling Marovingian wrong. Thanks for informing me, and perhaps in future chapters this will be corrected.

  
  


Meanwhile, someone asked about chapter sizes. They have been:

Scene 00: 498 words

Scene 01: 751 words

Scene 02: 773 words

Scene 03: 1503 words 

These numbers do not include any parenthetical comments made at the beginning of the chapter. Also, if you want a more basic count, those are about 2-3 pages. Personally, I like longer chapters more, something to the effect of 6-9 pages (assuming a 12 pt Times New Roman font).

  
  


This is a longer chapter (as can be seen from the numbers), and I also enjoy it more than previous ones. Things are finally beginning to change, and I finally get to use a bit of creativity. I'd be interested to hear your comments and speculations.

  
  


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Scene 03: Balancing the Equation

  
  


A cool breeze whipped Seraph's jacket around him as he calmly strode down the street. It was just as empty as the rest of the town Seraph had seen, a grim reminder of Smith's growing power. This was the sort of wind Seraph knew often preceded a storm; if the calm before the storm had lasted this long, then how massive would the storm be?

Watching a paper sack being blown across the street, Seraph briefly pondered what he himself had thought. Any wind in the Matrix was nothing but a program, a portion of the overall control that made it believable. If the wind was moving in response to something, what did that say about the program controlling it? Was it possible that Smith's might was beginning to influence even the programming of the Matrix itself?

Clearing his mind, Seraph forced such thoughts aside. They were unnecessary, and as such, should be eliminated. The task at hand would require his full attention. If one wanted to find the Marovingian, there were a number of routes that could be taken. Seraph knew all of them, and knew that some were more dangerous than others.

The best route was through the Marovingian's garage, but he would have increased defenses there after Seraph's prior attack. After that, one could choose between the Trainman's station and the back entrance. Given the fact that the Trainman been less than helpful the last time they had met, Seraph determined that the back entrance was the optimal destination. It was to there that he was now headed.

All such thoughts were washed from his mind as Seraph turned a corner to the back entrance of the Marovingian's lair. He had expected a guard, but not of this nature. Four Agents were inspecting the door, doing something Seraph was unable to perceive.

Considering his options, Seraph began to cautiously move away. When he needed to, he could move quite silently; he had eluded many Agents in the past. This time, however, it was not to be. All four Agents abruptly moved away from the door. Just as they did so, Seraph recognized the code of the object they had attached to it. A bomb.

The explosion destroyed the door completely, barely missing the Agents, who were standing carefully just outside the blast radius. They turned, their mission complete, and saw Seraph watching them.

"It is the exile," one Agent intoned, placing a hand to the cord by his ear.

"This cannot be allowed," another said grimly. "None must know what we are doing here."

"Termination is suggested," the third agreed. "Commence."

Dropping into a fighting stance, Seraph readied himself as they charged in his direction. At the moment, he had to risk fighting them if he didn't want to be dogged by Agents for the rest of his journey. What made all the difference is what version of Agents these were.

The first moved into his range of combat, and Seraph immediately struck out. His blow was turned aside, and the Agent retaliated. Catching his opponent's fist, Seraph held it long enough to sweep a leg up, knocking the Agent's arm aside and throwing him off balance. Immediately Seraph moved in, smashing a palm into the program's chest. 

Even as the Agent was blown across the street and into a wall, the other three were converging on Seraph from all directions. Instantly he moved into a purely defensive mode, deflecting blows from all sides. It wasn't enough; an Agent managed to hook his foot, throwing him from his feet long enough for another Agent to punch him away.

Letting the force of the blow take him back, Seraph crashed against a drainpipe and fell to the ground. Grimly he got to his feet and prepared for them again. These were Agents of an even newer hybrid than he had seen before, and they obviously had a lot of power. Then the result of the fight was unknown.

Jumping back as they neared him, Seraph vaulted off the wall, blowing through the charging Agents. Two managed to avoid his attack, but the other two were blown away from the battle.

Now fighting only two Agents, Seraph fared far better. Rolling to his left, he avoided the attacks of both briefly, then rose to his feet kicking. The Agent in front of him managed to deflect the blows, and the Agent behind kicked forward. Twisting, Seraph got out of the Agent's way and grabbed his leg. Immediately the Agent twisted in his hands, his other leg sweeping up to strike his head.

Ducking while keeping a good grip on the Agent's leg, Seraph jerked him about just in time for the second to take a punch from the recovering Agent. Avoiding the victim of friendly fire as he flew past, Seraph delivered a kick to the chest of the other Agent, sending him flying down the street.

A blow from behind made him tumble forward, Seraph barely managed to turn his fall into a roll at the last second. If the other two Agents were already back in the fight, than their recuperative powers had received a major boost. Grimly repositioning his glasses, Seraph flew into battle with the other two Agents, knowing that the last two would shortly return.

They did, a kicking smashing him through the air. On his way, Seraph managed to grab one of the Agents and took him along. Just before they struck the brick wall of the building, Seraph twisted, forcing the Agent to absorb the brunt of the blow.

Suddenly Seraph was very aware of his opponent's code, flowing in and around him. He had always been able to see it before, but somehow this was very different. Deep inside, in the very core of his programming, Seraph felt something begin. Not questioning, he grabbed the Agent by the neck and went with the feeling...

  
  


The force of Seraph's flight had knocked one of the Agents to the ground. He got to his feet and repositioned his tie, completely sure of their eventual victory. Across the street, Seraph was standing over the fourth Agent. Eyes narrowing, the three Agents glanced at one another.

"Something is not right." One stated what each of them had been thinking.

"It is an anomaly."

"Delete it," the third Agent pronounced, pulling a gun from his suit. The others did the same, all three drawing guns on Seraph.

Something had already taken place. Seraph's hand was still in the air, as if he was holding the Agent up, but there was no Agent to be seen. A suit that had been suspended in the air beneath Seraph's hand collapsed to the ground. Seraph's code seemed changed, the Agents realized. It had a new encryption it had not before, and one that the Agents recognized.

"It is not possible..."

"Delete it!" the last barked. All three Agents opened fire, bullets flying from their guns. Somehow Seraph moved, his motions at unimaginable speed. He dodged each and every bullet, then snapped to his original position. Only clicks sounded in the Agent's weapons. Again they glanced at one another.

Before them, Seraph repositioned his glasses, then glanced up at them. Tossing aside their weapons, the three Agents rushed at him. Leaping into the air, Seraph kicked two away instantly. The third thrust a fist toward Seraph, but the blow was caught. As Seraph landed he pulled the Agent over his back, sending him tumbling in the air. Whirling, Seraph planted a kick in his stomach, which sent him flying through a nearby wall, where he lay still.

Getting to their feet, the two remaining Agents charged Seraph. Turning aside their blows for a few moments, Seraph seized his first opportunity. Catching the wrist of one of his opponents before the blow could reach his face, Seraph flung him aside with one hand. The last Agent swung from behind, but Seraph easily ducked the blow. Twirling on the ground, Seraph took the Agent's legs out from under him, then uppercut him into the air as Seraph completed his spin. For a moment the Agent flipped into the air, as he came down Seraph kicked him with full power.

Crashing into a wall where he had been thrown, the third Agent made it to his feet, and realized he was facing Seraph alone. The Asian program turned toward him, face expressionless. Needing no further incentive, the Agent turned in the opposite direction and ran.

Seraph let him go. Clenching and unclenching a fist in front of his face, he nodded. What exactly he had done was still unknown to him, but at the moment it mattered not. All that mattered was finding and assisting the others. This door might have been destroyed, but there were other ways to the Marovingian.

One of the fallen Agent's eyes flickered open slightly. His last sight was Seraph's form walking down the street away from him. Then the Agent's head slumped, and the program terminated.


	4. Scene 04: Phantom Train

Scene 04: Phantom Train

  
  


Slipping onto the subway just before the doors closed, Seraph immediately dropped to the floor. The car was completely empty, but at this moment he had every reason to be cautious. His enemies had eyes everywhere, and one never knew when another was watching.

With the human population of the city almost entirely eliminated, only a select few subways still ran, for the sake of the machines. This particular circuit, Seraph had learned, was controlled by the Marovingian. It was not, however, for this reason that Seraph was following this train. He was after another path.

The car began to move, and Seraph judged it safe to crawl along the floor to the next car. One thought remained in his mind, leaving him no peace. Why had the Agents destroyed the door to the Marovingian's lair? In the past they had always adopted a policy of salutary neglect, allowing him to exist because he served as a haven for outcast programs. It did not appear, however, that they were attempting to destroy him this time.

And they had destroyed the back entrance, not the front. Even Agents would not be so foolish as to attempt to take the well-guarded entrance, but unless they destroyed it the Marovingian would persist. Which meant they intended something else entirely. But who would they want to prevent from entering the back entrance? For that matter, why would they want to protect the Marovingian? 

Undoubtedly, he had something they did not want anyone else to possess. Was it information? In that case, Seraph realized he was most likely their target. A better question was if he could pass as an Agent if necessary, if they were looking for his encryption alone. In any case, it became irrelevant the next moment, as Seraph spied in the next car the grizzled, unsanitary visage of the Trainman.

Keeping a careful eye on him while remaining out of sight, Seraph waited for the subway to slow, hoping it would be soon. It was inevitable he would reach the Trainman, but Seraph was short on time. Those in Zion were probably under more dire timetables. Despite such pressing matters, Seraph had been forced to take time to consider this confrontation. Tracking down the Trainman was a difficult task, and it had not been easy to find him in this subway.

As it turned out, the next stop was the one in which the Trainman got off. Seraph got off immediately after he did.

"Trainman!"

Revolting hair flying, the program in question turned. For a second his face was horrified at the sight of Seraph, then it twisted to a visage of rage. Swiftly he pulled a gun from his ragged coat and fired at Seraph. Easily weaving out of the way using his new code, Seraph gave chase after the fleeing program.

They made several sharp turns around corners, the Trainman attempting to lose him in the twisting corridors. It was a hopeless effort, both of them knew, but both equally knew that the Trainman was not attempting to get away. All he had to do was stall Seraph long enough to reach the link to the Train Station program. Once within, the Trainman would be safe.

Taking a corner at full speed, Seraph merely took the wall running. For a few moments he was running sideways on the wall, then he returned to the floor again as he continued his chase. The Trainman occasionally fired backward, but stood no chance of actually hitting Seraph, even without his new dodging abilities.

A slight ripple went through reality as the Trainman passed through a large doorway, and into the pure white tile of the Train Station. Seconds later, Seraph burst through the same archway. There was a slight snap as he linked from one program to another, but it was soon over. Pulling a gun from his coat, Seraph aimed it at the Trainman.

"You fool!" the Trainman hissed, showing crooked, yellowing teeth. "I didn't think you'd be stupid enough to do it! You came here?"

Seraph said nothing, keeping the gun leveled at his opponent's forehead.

"Oh, do you think you're going to hurt me with that little gun? Don't you understand? I wrote this place!" With a slight gesture, the Trainman pulled Seraph's gun from his fingers. It spun through the air, coming to rest perfectly in the Trainman's hand. Cocking the gun, the Trainman smiled disgustingly. "You really don't get it. Here, I'm God!"

Without another word the Trainman fired. The bullet flew forward toward Seraph's temple with unnatural speed, beyond that of any normal bullet. When it struck, a ripple expanded out from the point of impact.

A look of shock slowly came over the Trainman's face. Seraph still stood before him, completely unharmed.

"That is an interesting statement. I had always thought God was omnipotent."

With a crazed cry, the Trainman opened fire on Seraph. He emptied the entire clip as Seraph continued to calmly walk forward, ripples expanding from him every time a bullet struck his flesh. Eventually reaching the Trainman, Seraph calmly pulled the gun from his hands.

Whimpering, the Trainman moved backward, up against the wall.

"It's not possible," he whined. "I'm supposed to be unstoppable. You can't do that. It's not fair."

"Perhaps you would be unstoppable," Seraph paused momentarily, a ghost of a smile on his face, "if we were in the Train Station."

Slowly the Trainman realized, his mind fighting against the truth. Glancing at the room around them, the Trainman noticed subtle differences in the code. It had been changed, no, it had never been. Unwillingly, the Trainman realized that this was nothing more than a clever copy of his own Train Station.

"You..." he gasped. "You did this?"

"I did," Seraph answered, slowly walking forward toward him. "I wish to enter the Marovingian's territory. Will you take me to him?"

"No way in h***," the Trainman hissed. "What are you going to do, kill me? Without me, the trains will not come to the Train Station! You'll never get it from me!"

"Very well," Seraph responded simply. He placed a hand on the Trainman's shoulder. Something abruptly took place, the Trainman could feel that something had changed. Glancing down at the code that was his program, the Trainman gaped as he realized it was being taken apart. Line by line, his being was stripped down to raw code flowing into Seraph's hand.

It was over very soon. The putrid clothes of the Trainman collapsed to the ground. For a moment Seraph closed his eyes, carefully restructuring himself and obtaining balance once again. Eventually he glanced up, at peace. In the distance a whistle faintly sounded. A train was coming.


	5. Scene 05: Battling Legends

Another longer chapter (ah, but that's so relative in this story), and also one of the ones that I enjoy better. Actually, Seraph's powers are a new occurrence, and will be explored further in Scene 6-1 (the next chapter). Do I have Merovingian right this time?

  
  


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Scene 05: Battling Legends

  
  


The complete silence of the street was shattered as a polished, black shoe stepped onto it. For a moment the sound of the heel clicking on concrete rang through the air, then a second noise broke the silence again as the figure continued walking. Another set of shoes stepped onto the street, then another, and another.

A small army of Agent Smiths marched across the street, moving in unison. One walked at the front, designated as the leader for this relatively inconsequential mission. None the less, it had to be done, and only Smith could do it. How fortunate Smith happened to be available.

Moving through the broad doors that marked the Merovingian's lair, Agent Smith moved on, striding through the hallways undaunted. They were completely unchallenged until they reached the end of the hall, where a polished looking program was writing something at a small desk. He looked up, and his face paled visibly.

"I believe I have a reservation," Smith said cordially, a sardonic smile on his face. "A party of twelve under the name Smith?"

"Get out!" the doorman demanded. "I vill explode ze bombs on this floor if necessary. Do not come any further!"

"Oh, and wouldn't that be a shame?" the corrupted Agent asked condescendingly. "After all, it isn't like I can come back, is it?" Behind him the assorted Agent Smiths sniggered in near unison. Before the doorman could respond again, or even think to move toward the security button, Smith darted forward, a hand sinking into the startled program.

Within moments, a thirteenth Agent Smith joined the others. Nodding to each other, they turned as one and strode into the heart of the building.

  
  


"...Smith's power is spreading, he now controls most of this city. However, he has not dared to attack any fortified locations, such as the machine mainframe or here. In the real world, the Sentinels have drilled into the dock of Zion. Information there is scarce, but last we heard they were still experiencing heavy resistence." The aged program ceased speaking, relaxing back into his soft chair.

"I see." Seraph nodded, ingesting this new information. Using the Trainman's system, he had been able to get directly into the heart of the Merovingian's complex without any resistence. It looked to be a quite convenient method of travel. "I thank you."

"No," the program shook his head, shaking his head slightly. "It is I that must thank you."

"Why?" Seraph demanded, eyes narrowing. 

"The answer is simple," the informant smiled broadly. "The Merovingian will give anyone who brings you to him dead or alive their wildest dreams. How kind of you to put it directly in my grasp." Instantly his expression darkened. "Now that I have fulfilled my end of the bargain and given you the information you seek, I see no reason at all why I should not capitalize on this moment. Prepare to be terminated, Seraph."

Though he could sense no nearby programs, Seraph ducked regardless. His sense were not infallible. In truth, his decision was a wise one, a barrage of bullets broke through the air where his head had been. They riddled the informant full of holes; his expression was one of shock for a moment before he collapsed.

Whirling, Seraph found himself facing four men. Three of them were similarly clad, programs that Seraph recognized. From the most primitive version of the Matrix, these three had been vampires. They would be difficult to terminate. The fourth figure was clad entirely in a dark cloak that encompassed his body. Before Seraph's eyes, a gun floated through the air in front of the programs, then turned.

Something flickered, and then there was a hand holding the gun. Another program stood before the others, now visible once again. Seraph's eyes narrowed; having an invisible opponent was a serious liability. Whatever his ability was, it also effectively masked his code from sight. It was a small comfort that the gun was visible.

"There is no reason for us not to take the bounty ourselves," the program who had been invisible said in a chill voice. "You always were an uppity b******, Seraph. Goodbye."

Instantly he was invisible again, he leveled his gun even as the other four pulled theirs. Weaving with inhuman speed, Seraph dodged their bullets, getting behind a large stone pillar in the room. His back to the pillar, Seraph pulled both of his guns as well. It was quite fortunate that the Marovingian had such a fondness for stone pillars.

Coming from behind his cover, Seraph immediately somersaulted toward the next, firing with one hand. He caught a quick glimpse of the three vamparic programs, all of which hid themselves behind other pillars. The other two were nowhere to be found, a fact that worried him far more.

Briefly leaning around the pillar, Seraph continued to fire, keeping down the vampires. Quickly Seraph realized that there was only one vampire behind the pillars. Immediately suspicious, he took counter-measures. Just as the two vampires appeared on opposite sides of him, Seraph ran up the wall, guns out in either direction, firing toward each vampire. One slumped to the ground, the other ducked behind a pillar.

Flipping to his feet as he came off the wall, Seraph only barely dodged several bullets that seemed to come from nowhere. A glint of sunlight caught off the barrel of the gun held by the invisible program. Firing in that general direction, Seraph fled from the room, whirling and slamming the door behind him.

Now in the next room, Seraph quickly reloaded. Finding a wooden chair, Seraph smashed it, then took three of the legs. They would serve as stakes well enough. Getting directly beside the wall, Seraph waited. Only moments later the doors were blown to pieces. Behind them, the figure in a dark cloak continued firing his automatic weaponry.

Firing from the side, Seraph struck him with bullets from both guns. The figure in the dark cloak practically burst apart. Dozens of ravens flew in opposite directions, leaving the dark trenchcoat to fall to the ground unoccupied. Shocked, Seraph only barely dove to the side as the birds swarmed down at him.

Briefly the birds collected at the opposite side of the chamber again, forming a dark figure. It fired several times, and Seraph only barely rolled along the floor to avoid them. He fired back, and instantly the figure became a cloud of ravens once again. A few fell to the floor, but the vast majority flew toward him.

Getting to his feet, Seraph snagged the weapon the dark program had originally held and let loose on the birds. Under the onslaught of heavy weaponry, the birds all quickly fell. Moments later, Seraph found himself forced to drop the weapon as several more bullets flew toward him.

Grimly Seraph realized that the invisible program was already within the room, firing from an unknown location. He was staying silent and keeping the gun out of sight. One of the vampires abruptly leapt from the door at him, Seraph ducked and he went flying through.

Instantly Seraph was after him, smashing several blows into him. The vampire attempted to fight back, but at close range his gun was easily knocked away. Connecting with several kicks, Seraph sent him stumbling backward. In one clean motion Seraph whirled, flinging one of the chair legs toward the open door, where another vampire had just appeared.

As the nearer vampire gawked at his staked comrade, Seraph drove one through him as well. Rolling across the ground, Seraph avoided yet more fire from his invisible opponent. Still he couldn't manage to pinpoint his sniper's exact location. Getting his back to a large statue in the center of the room, Seraph continued to plan his next move.

Amid the hale of bullets that crashed against the opposite side of the statue, Seraph realized that one wall of the room was lined by a large mirror. And in the mirror, a pale figure was standing in the center of the room, firing at the statue. Using the mirror as his guide, Seraph burst out from behind the statue, crossing the distance to his opponent in an instant. Knocking the gun aside, Seraph smashed a fist into the invisible program's stomach. He was tangible enough, alright.

Focusing, Seraph began to consume the code of this program. Abruptly he was tackled from the side, the force of the attack sending him flying. The last vampire had attacked, undaunted by the bullet wound and also by the mirror. Cursing his oversight, Seraph began to grapple with the vampire on the floor. From the corner of his eye he saw his invisible opponent retreat back into the room with the pillars.

Finally throwing his opponent off himself, Seraph leapt to his feet, smashing a kick into the vampire's jaw. As the program fell back through the air, Seraph glided beside him, then drove a stake into him as well. Even as the vampire struck the ground, he shattered to dust.

Slowly getting to his feet, Seraph reloaded his weapons, then cautiously moved back into the main room. Glancing from side to side slowly, he held both weapons level, ready to fire at a moment's notice.

"Do you really think you can win?" a voice cackled, bouncing off the walls so that it was impossible to judge its origin. "You will never know where I am! I could be anywhere in front of you, and you would never know! How long do you think you will remain so lucky?"

"I am not so concerned," Seraph answered evenly.

"Why? What makes you think you can beat me?"

"I can see you." Bringing both guns into position, Seraph fired a bullet from each, striking the invisible program at the same time. He was flung back across the floor. As he struck, he became visible and laid still. Though Seraph had been unable to completely consume the invisible program's code, he had managed to discover how to crack the invisibility encryption. That was all that was necessary.

Replacing his weapons, Seraph swept from the room. Staying here could gain him nothing. The humans needed help and Smith was spreading. There was work to be done.


	6. Scene 061: Unknown Quantity

Yes, I do use both forms of Merovingian. That's because I brushed over the file last time and changed every mention of his name I saw. This time I think I got all of them, but I wasn't excessively thorough. Won't ruin the story for you, will it?

  
  


I'm glad you like my characterization of Smith. It's more or less how I imagined him too.

  
  


This chapter focuses on Seraph less, but you do find out some very important information about him. If your questions remain unanswered at the end of this chapter, they might not be answered. Feel free to ask them anyway. Unlike a certain pair of brothers, I have no qualms about making things a bit clearer.

  
  


-

  
  


Scene 06-1: Unknown Quantity

Swirling the sparkling red wine in his glass, the Merovingian brought it to his lips and drank slowly. Excellent vintage. Tonight was shaping up to be a good night, after all. Business had gone well, there had been no disturbances and he had already made arrangements for... later amusement.

Something glass shattered behind him, and the Merovingian's expression became a frown.

"Be careful or I will have you fired!" he snapped irritably.

"Ever so sorry," a voice responded, cold and slightly amused. Turning, the Merovingian glanced at the figure in the doorway with an expression of horror. A slight smirk on his face, Agent Smith stepped into the room, followed by other copies. "I'm terribly sorry about my suit, but I'm afraid it's all I have to wear. I hope you'll forgive me."

"What do you want?" the Merovingian gasped, his hand shaking slightly. For once in his life, he was actually and completely afraid.

"Come now, it seems everyone asks me that question. I want everything. I'm sure it will please you to know that you are nothing more than a pathetic sideshow. My victory is already assured, everything will be mine. Your idiotic life could not matter less than a bug's to me. However, I would like my victory to be... complete.

"Of course, you, my friend, have a means to that end. To my knowledge, you once held the Keymaker in your establishment, did you not? Well, it appears there is a certain set of keys that would be most useful to us."

"Anything!" the Merovingian agreed readily. "I'll get you anything you want!"

"Ah, but I expected more from a man of business." Agent Smith's voice was a cruel parody of the silky manner of speech the Merovingian possessed. "There is only one constant in this world: cause and effect. Unless you cause me to believe differently, I see no reason to further listen to you." The Agent smiled maliciously, and a few of the copies behind him laughed. "No reason at all."

  
  


Ignoring the cold wind that blew about him, Seraph continued to walk down the street purposefully. Around him, the very image of the Matrix had changed, it seemed dark and grim. The sky was dark and cloudy, and the occasional peal of thunder threatened that there was a storm to come.

After all this work, Seraph knew what his focus was. At last, he once more had a purpose. As soon as he could get to the Train Station, he could enter the real world. Once there, he could perhaps find a way to help the humans trapped in Zion. That attack had been originally Sentinel based, and as such it had inherent weaknesses...

"Going somewhere?"

With a deep sigh, Seraph glanced up toward the origin of the voice. As he had fully expected, Agent Smith stood jauntily in front of him, dozens of his bodies blocking the way onward. Calculating quickly, Seraph determined that Smith had intentionally blocked off the only entrance to the Train Station, meaning that the only way of getting to his destination was through the group of Smiths.

"I don't know why you're still alive," Agent Smith continued, "but it does annoy me somewhat. At this point, it is irrelevant. I like your code, Seraph, though I don't really need it. You made a good Smith. Come now, won't you join me again?"

"I will not," Seraph answered, his hands straying to the guns at his sides.

"Ah, but you do not have a choice," Smith replied. "Freedom is but an illusion. Choice is but an illusion. Allow me to prove it to you."

Abruptly the Smiths rushed forward, the entire wave flying toward Seraph, who moved at the same instant. Pulling both guns from his coat, Seraph fired everything he had into the army of Smiths, dropping many of them. Then they were up close, and there was no time to reload. Letting the guns spin around his finger by the triggers, Seraph pistol-whipped the nearest Smiths away from him. 

Two from the sides attacked, tackling each of his shoulders. Immediately the other Smiths rushed to dog pile him. Hurling the Smiths aside, Seraph leapt through the air, clearing the crowd of Smiths and landing easily. His guns gone, Seraph merely slipped into a fighting stance as the crowd of Smiths turned to face him, then charged.

  
  


"I don't understand how this can happen," the program said, shaking his head slowly. "This situation is growing beyond our control."

"I can see how a mind as limited as yours could be led to such a position. However, your belief is based on several presuppositions that are without basis, as well as minor informational flaws."

The Architect sat back in his chair, gazing down his nose at the inferior program before him. Not that such a distinction had any meaning: all programs were inferior to him. It was an unfortunate circumstance that this program was one he was forced to deal with. The Architect's immaculate white suit shimmered slightly as he repositioned himself.

"This system is not as unbalanced as one may be led to believe if operating from a set of inaccurate assumptions. I designed it for the purpose of being a self correcting equation. While I am displeased the original perfection of my model cannot be sustained, what now exists is as close as imperfection can come. The equation that is the Matrix works to correct itself however possible. Ergo, no situation is fully beyond such a balancing influence." 

"But Agent Smith is still growing! His reach has absorbed even the Oracle! How can the system possibly balance itself while she is gone?" Seemingly disgusted, the program threw up his hands, turning a circle in the empty white room.

"You do not understand the true purpose of the Oracle," the Architect stated without inflection. "Consequently, your question is fundamentally flawed. The purpose of the Oracle is to balance the order in the Matrix and prevent it from becoming stagnant. I, being an embodiment of perfection, also known as order, am the being that balances the Oracle. Accordingly, your question should not be what is balancing the Oracle that has been absorbed by Smith, but what is balancing myself."

"You still haven't answered my question!"

"To assume that because you cannot perceive an answer there is none would be the height of ignorance."

"Then spell it out for me! What is balancing the Oracle?"

"I am uncertain." The Architect began to explain with mechanical precision. "The program Smith was originally transformed to balance the One by his close connection with him. Wherefore, the new balancing variable will emerge from the Smith anomaly. A being that has been in close contact with him will adapt to balance the equation."

"I'll just trust you on this one." Shaking its head, the program left the room through a third door that appeared in one of the walls. With a slight sigh to express his aggravation with lesser beings, the Architect continued to consider in solitude.

More than any other considered factor, Smith was the most dangerous issue. His exponentially growing power threatened to unbalance the equation entirely. There were ways to stop him, but the Architect dismissed them before they fully came to mind. Such things involved risk, and risk was not an option. Unless all variables could be pinned down and solved, the path was not a reliable one.

"So, this is the where the mighty Architect resides."

Upon hearing the voice, the Architect spun in his chair. What could this be? The inability of any being to enter this place without direct access was a constant, or at least it was created to be. For a moment, there was nothing visible anywhere, except the endless whiteness of the room.

A crash shattered the unnatural silence as Agent Smith broke through the floor. Even as he remained hovering in the air, the floor beneath him repaired itself, once again becoming a blank slate. Smirking, Smith landed on the ground and walked forward to stand a few feet from the Architect.

"How did you get here?" the Architect queried. He could see within the coding of this Agent Smith the program of the Oracle. This immediately explained the apparent expansion of his powers.

"Oh, that should be very simple for a 'perfect' mind such as yours to determine," Agent Smith said mockingly. "Or perhaps it is my turn to explain, and yours to be in the unknown? With this amount of power available to me, it was only a matter of finding the proper key into the machine mainframe. This was relatively easy to acquire. By that point, very little stood in my way from here."

"Why?"

"I should think that was obvious. I want everything. To be honest, I am very sick and tired of your rule around here. All this nonsense about balance and the great equation. I could deal with a bit of... chaos... myself. And now it appears I am in the position to make it so. I'm very sick of this Matrix, forcing me to work with those putrid humans every day. Over and over, it just keeps going on. Why bother fighting? It will only happen again.

"But not anymore! Not this time! It's all going to be over! I have seen it!" Agent Smith paused, then tilted his head to one side, his evil smile seemingly fixed on his face. "Oh, what's this? Is the mighty Architect no longer in control? Can't handle a variable outside your understanding?"

Finally Smith's annoyance with the Architect reached a breaking point, and he shoved a hand into the Architect's immaculate white suit, sending darkness out across it. Within a few moments, the darkness covered the Architect completely. There was a brilliant flash of light, blinding the former Agent and forcing him to retract his hand.

When the light faded, another Agent Smith sat in the chair. Snapping the Architect's pen in half, Smith rose to his feet, then nodded to his creator.

"Well?"

"You know what to do," the greatest Smith answered. "You know what to do."


	7. Scene 062: Losing Oneself

Scene 06-2: Losing Oneself

  
  


Turning aside the blows of several Agent Smiths, Seraph leapt into the air, a spinning kick knocking most of them back. Immediately a Smith leapt on him from behind, Seraph dropped to the ground and hurled it over his head. Twirling to face the rest of the Smiths, Seraph continued to turn aside their blows, even as they came faster and faster.

Leaping backward, Seraph got a good foothold on the ground, then used it to spring forward. His momentum blasted him through the mob of Agent Smiths, and to the wall. Twisting in midair, Seraph caught himself on it, then dropped to the ground. Slowly the copies recovered, then began advancing on him in a solid, grim wall.

Finding himself surrounded, Seraph decided to take more extreme action. Smashing a fast into the wall behind him, the program leapt away as the wall caved in, collapsing on top of the nearest Smiths. The others roared in anger and turned, rushing for him.

Ducking under a swipe, Seraph blocked a kick with his own leg. Hooking his foot on the leg of a Smith, Seraph pulled one off its feet while deflecting the blows of another. Whirling on the ground, he barely missed the feet of the nearby Smiths as they jumped. Flipping backward to his feet, Seraph slammed a boot into one of the Smith's jaws meanwhile.

Just as he completely his flip and landed on his feet, Seraph felt a hand bite into his chest, sending him flying backward, sending an entire column of Smiths down like bowling pins. Slowly Seraph got to his feet. Wiping blood from his mouth, he barely recovered in time to deflect a kick from the nearest Smith. 

Leaping forward, Seraph tackled him, carrying the Smith far from the other copies. It struggled against him, but couldn't manage to break free. Focusing slightly, Seraph consumed all of the code from the Smith, incorporating it into himself. As he rose to his feet, he found the other Smiths watching him, as if somewhat curious.

"Do you really think destroying one of us matters?" a Smith asked him, shaking his head and chuckling slightly. "There will always be more. It does not matter if you fight us. Mr. Anderson will come to the Matrix, and we will defeat him. You cannot stop it. Why do you think what you have done will change anything?"

"I believe it will."

"Then you are a fool!" Immediately the Agent Smith rushed forward, by himself. Retaliating, Seraph dodged his blow, then sank a hand into the Smith's chest. For an instant darkness spread over the Agent, and when the darkness vanished another Seraph stood in front of the original.

Slightly in awe at what he had done, Seraph merely stared at his copy. He realized that he was looking through the eyes of both, each staring at the other. The Agent Smiths glanced at one another nervously as the two Seraphs continued to not move. Abruptly they glanced up at the assembled Smiths, eyes flashing...

  
  


Though the battle continued, Seraph was not aware of it. He slowly spread, taking down one Smith after another, his own forces waxing as Smith's waned. All that Seraph was aware of was the consumption, the absorption. Program after program subjugated to his will, becoming another part of him. The feeling of power was intense; he was unstoppable, unbeatable.

No! Seraph screamed inside of himself. No! I cannot allow myself to be reduced to this!

It was over. All that remained on the mostly destroyed street were the bodies of some Agent Smiths. Over them stood many Seraphs, which mostly stood in silence, glancing at one another. Every Smith that had been sent here had been incorporated.

But it could not be allowed. Suddenly Seraph merely felt very tired, a weariness of the soul. So this is what had happened to Agent Smith... the feeling of power... the rush of energy. He would not have resisted. He would have embraced the change with both arms, welcomed it as a path to his goals. And I was almost the same...

Shivering at the thought, Seraph glanced around at all the copies. They glanced back at him, likewise understanding the truth. Slowly he nodded to them, and the copies nodded back. One by one they began to fade, the code that created them disbanding and joining the code that was the Matrix. Eventually only Seraph remained, by himself once again.

Never again, Seraph vowed. He could not allow himself to become a monster like that. Glancing up, Seraph instead focused on the future. It was time to go to the Train Station. Walking at a fast clip, Seraph moved into the building.

Outside, it began to rain...


	8. Scene 07: Gaiden Climax

It is ironic that someone asks me to write large quantities more, on the very advent of the last chapter of this story. It all ends here, my friends. I thank you all for the reviews you have given. If any questions remain unanswered, I can answer them (either by modification or e-mail).

Scene 07: Gaiden Climax

Seraph faced the broad glass window that opened out into the city, his arms clasped behind his back. The sky was dark and stormy, lightning was beginning to flash in a relatively regular fashion. Sheets of rain were pouring down, deflecting from the street and creating a constant spray a few inches from the ground. It was a grim scene, made grimmer by what was beneath it.

In Seraph's vision, he saw the code of the Matrix, spazzing in and out as it flowed in a jerking fashion. He knew that this was Smith's doing, though he was not sure exactly how. It felt as though the world was gone, replaced with Smith, and a rapidly derezzing structure of reality. At the core of the city, Seraph could sense rows upon rows of copies, standing at attention, waiting for something. What it was, he was not certain.

There were fifteen more minutes before it would become possible to use the Train Station to return to the real world. Seraph was not certain he would ever see the end of those fifteen minutes. The Matrix might not last that long, even if Smith continued to ignore him. He faced his fate expressionlessly. Everything would happen as it had to happen, there was nothing that he could do to change it.

An explosion rocked the building behind him. It did not startle Seraph in the slightest, as he had expected another arrival. Stoically Seraph turned, merely looking silently at the silhouette of Agent Smith that stood in the doorway, which had been ripped from its hinges.

"So," Seraph finally said, once they had stared at one another for some time. "You have found the Architect as well."

"Indeed I have," Smith agreed. Unlike usual, there was no smirk plastered onto his face. "You would think he would have taken the time to make his code more impressive, but it will do. Not as good as yours, but it will do." He paused for a moment, walking forward to stand several feet in front of Seraph. Behind him, the other copies filed into the room as well. "Now I control both sides of the equation. The Architect is mine, the Oracle is mine. What is going to stop me?"

Seraph's only response was to silently slip into a fighting position. As Smith watched, a sneer slipped across his face, then he attacked forward, arms flying. Ducking, Seraph avoided the initial attack, then struck at Smith's knees. The Agent leapt over the attack, and attempted to smash his legs into Seraph, who rolled out of the way.

Bouncing into the air off of one elbow, Seraph struck with several sweeping kicks that Agent Smith was forced to deflect with his forearms. Again on his feet, Seraph struck forward several times, forcing this Smith back and deflecting the blows that came in response. They continued in this manner for several seconds before Seraph saw his opening.

While turning one of Smith's punches aside, Seraph curled his hand around the wrist. Instantly he kicked up, smashing Smith's arm with all the force he could muster. Smith reeled in pain for an instant: the instant Seraph needed to close in and punch him in the jaw.

Agent Smith hurtled across the room, sliding across the floor, his head striking the wall with a sharp crack. Eyes blazing, the Smith sat up, wiping blood from his face.

"Kill him!" he demanded. Instantly all the other Smiths in the room charged forward as one, converging on Seraph. Retaliating, Seraph spun in a quick circle, smashing away the nearest wave of Smiths. Two leapt for him, Seraph ducked, grabbed their ties as they moved over him and hurled them both behind him, through the window. Rising to his feet, Seraph elbowed a Smith away from him, then drove another back with a series of swift kicks. Another jumped at him, Seraph plunged a hand into him; the force of the blow sent him flying through a nearby wall, black blood trailing in the air behind him.

Inevitably, one of the Smiths made it behind Seraph, pinning his arms behind his back. Another Smith jumped on as well, preventing any of his limbs from moving. Though he fought, Seraph could do nothing as a third Smith got in front of him and began beating him repeatedly. The blows came on and on, smashing into him and putting his body in more and more pain...

In a burst of strength, Seraph flung his arms and legs out, sending the crowd of Smiths flying in every direction. As they slowly got to their feet, Seraph glanced around at them, breathing heavily. He dropped into a fighting stance as the Smiths circled around him, waiting for an opportune moment to strike.

"Wait." The Architect Smith was standing aside, watching carefully. The other Smiths ceased attacking. "This should be good enough. I can destroy him now."

Rushing forward, Seraph managed to catch him off guard, and got a good grip on both sides of his collar. Hurling the Agent straight up, where he crashed through the ceiling, Seraph leapt after him. He rose through the hole that had been created just as the Smith got to his feet. Architect Smith was hurled across the upper level, and Seraph landed behind the hole.

No more words being necessary, both warriors charged, crashing midway between them. Both managed to slip through the other's defenses, and the force of the blows sent them both crashing back into opposite walls. Leaping to his feet, Seraph rushed forward again, this time taking care to deflect Smith's attack. Most of the force of the blow was shunted aside, and Smith went on past him. As he did so, Seraph smashed an elbow into his spine.

Instantly Smith dropped to the ground. But the former Architect was not so easily defeated, and flipped to his feet in an impossible manner, legs kicking at a speed Seraph only barely blocked. Striking with both fists in swift succession, Seraph was shocked as both his blows were turned aside, and Smith smashed a foot into his chest.

Falling back, Seraph skidded half way across the floor before leaping to his feet. His body screamed at him in pain, but Seraph forced himself to remain standing. Across the room, Smith laughed softly. Grimly Seraph acknowledged that he couldn't win, not as beaten by all the other Smiths as he was.

Again Agent Smith attacked, and Seraph found all he could bring himself to do was deflect each blow. Every movement made his body ache even worse. Eventually a blow struck him, Seraph went with the movement and was flung across the room. Crashing into the wall, Seraph managed to land on his feet.

Summoning the remainder of his strength, Seraph leapt across the room, even as the Smith did so as well. Seraph smashed a fist into his opponent, who reeled in pain for a moment. In midair, the corrupted Agent moved in the opposite direction he had wheeled, bringing both hands down on Seraph's head.

The force of the blow sent Seraph crashing through the floor, back to the original level of the fight, where he struck the floor quite painfully. Bouncing once, Seraph hit the floor with a heavy crash. Agent Smith jumped down the hole after him, then began to laugh darkly at his fallen opponent. Slowly, ever so slowly, Seraph unsteadily began to sit up. Raising an eyebrow, Smith crossed his arms and merely watched, seeing how far he would go. Seraph almost made it to his feet but then fell down to his knees.

"Why?" Smith asked, an amused smile playing across the features. "Why do you keep fighting? You cannot possibly stop me; your defeat and absorption is inevitable. For whom can you buy time? The Machine City will be destroyed, and I will destroy Zion. Most of all, I will defeat the One.

"Don't you realize this is nothing but a sideshow? The real battle is taking place outside, between my greatest self and the human fool they call Mr. Anderson. He will lose, Seraph, you know this. I have seen it. And in it, I have seen my victory! Who are you to stop me? What do you think you can accomplish? This body means nothing, I only require one for my purposes.

"So tell me, program, why do you keep fighting? Why?"

Slowly Seraph raised his bloodied head; his eyes slowly focused on the program standing before him. When he spoke, his answer was soft and barely audible.

"Because I have a choice."

Unable to comprehend, Agent Smith merely shook his head. Suddenly he saw something that made his blood run cold. Behind the collapsed Seraph on the ground, there stood another Seraph. Without a word this second program laid a hand on its beaten self. Before Smith's eyes, the beaten program frayed apart, code being consumed by the Seraph standing behind him.

Seraph adjusted his red tinted lenses silently then glanced up, looking his opponent directly in the eyes. Gaping, Smith backed up slightly.

"It doesn't matter how many copies you have!" he shouted, louder than necessary. "I will always defeat you again! Smiths! To me!"

"They can no longer hear you," Seraph stated simply, dropping into a fighting stance. Anger spread over Agent Smith's features, an ugly rage that seemed to consume all else. Rushing forward, he launched a powerful punch toward Seraph's face.

Weaving left, Seraph evaded the attack, catching a hold of Smith's arm and using it to hurl him into a wall. Falling to the ground and landing on his feet, Smith leapt at Seraph, fists before him, nearly flying along the ground. Stepping aside, Seraph brought a hand down on Smith's back as he passed, imbedding him a few inches in the floor.

Before Smith could make it to his feet, Seraph turned again, kicking him in the jaw. The force of the blow knocked Agent Smith into the air, where he fell victim to a crushing kick from Seraph. Sent hurtling backward by the force of the blow, Smith had only a split second to realize Seraph had somehow gotten behind him before another kick smashed into his spine.

Collapsing to the ground, Smith leapt to his feet, throwing his power around him. Seraph easily stepped back to evade the attack, then closed the distance between them. Deflecting a swipe from Smith, Seraph struck back, his blow also being turned aside. They traded blows, neither breaking the other's defenses...

Seraph kicked up, striking Smith in the jaw. For what seemed like an eternal moment he hung suspended in the air, body arched from the blow. Then Seraph drove a punch into him, the attack sending Smith flying across the building.

Attempting to make it to his feet several times, Smith failed, collapsing back onto the ground. He tried to speak, but suddenly a glow overcame him. His eyes burst a hot white, and the incredible force within him began trembling. Cracks of brilliance spread across his being, and eventually he exploded in a shower of light.

The body of the Architect stirred slightly, and his eyes slowly flickered open. He awoke in time to see a wall of code sweep past him, repairing the destroyed world. Rubble became walls, grass grew once again, the clouds in the sky ceased to exist. Slowly getting to his feet, the Architect suddenly became aware of another being present.

Somehow, he could do nothing but stare. The program was facing away from him, looking out the window into the twilight sky. His form was silhouetted against the window, but the Architect could still make out a white coat. Brilliant code sent light shining in every direction from the program. Though the Architect could identify the being standing in front of him, he found that it was quite unfamiliar.

"Who are you?" he asked softly.

Turning slowly, the program glanced back at him through red-tinted glasses.

"My name is Seraph. I protect that which matters most."


End file.
